


The Winterfell Wedding

by HeraldInquisitor



Series: Game of Thrones [5]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Bed Sex, Bedroom Sex, Chair Sex, Cock Worship, F/M, Jon Snow and Sansa Stark Are Not Related, Jon Snow is a Targaryen, Kissing, Love, Marriage, Marriage Proposal, Oral Sex, Past Petyr Baelish/Sansa Stark, Petyr Baelish is His Own Warning, Secret Marriage, Sex, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-17 22:48:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29233299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeraldInquisitor/pseuds/HeraldInquisitor
Summary: A secret wedding takes place in the Godswood at Winterfell, uniting the houses of Stark... and Baelish.
Relationships: Petyr Baelish & Jon Snow, Petyr Baelish/Sansa Stark
Series: Game of Thrones [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1432270
Kudos: 14





	The Winterfell Wedding

Sansa Stark and Lord Baelish were crossing the yard together, speaking quietly so that nobody could hear.  
"My lady, you know how I feel about you," said he.  
"I know what you tell me, Lord Baelish. I enjoy our... time together, but how can I _know_ what you really feel about anything? You are so good at hiding everything."  
"Lady Sansa, I told you I want to sit on the Iron Throne, with you as my Queen. If I am anyone's man, I am yours, to the core. You are my love."  
"You mean it?"   
"Yes, by the gods, I mean it. Lady Sansa, I know this is not the most romantic or most opportune moment, but - marry me. I will find us a septon and some witnesses, and we can marry in the Godswood at night." Sansa turned to him and looked him in the eyes. The only time this man ever showed her any vulnerability was in professing his feelings for her - or fucking her.  
"Lord Baelish, I will marry you. I will be your wife," and she couldn't help but smile at seeing his eyes shine. He bowed to her, saying,  
“Leave it to me, love, and it will all be arranged. We must do it at night, and in secret, to prevent anyone from trying to stop us.”

~~~

The Septon awaited them in the Godswood with two servants for witnesses. It was unusual for a Septon to perform a ceremony in a place where other gods were worshipped, but this was Lord Baelish's idea to satisfy both his wish for a wedding under the Seven and Sansa's own background as a woman of the North. The Septon didn't particularly care whether he officiated under the eyes of the Seven or in the Godswood, provided that Lord Baelish paid handsomely for the privilege. It would have been a very dark night had it not been for the snow falling, seemingly making the night brighter. The servants also carried torches with them. The Septon looked to Lord Baelish, and said,  
"You may now cloak the bride and bring her under your protection." Petyr Baelish stepped forwards, holding a cloak made of wolf fur, and gently cloaked the shivering Sansa, who had been without a cloak until this moment. He wrapped it round her and closed the mockingbird clasp around her neck. She looked up at him from under her lashes and smiled. He felt his heart beat so hard that he thought it might break through his chest.  
"We stand here in the sight of gods and men to witness the union of man and wife. One flesh, one heart, one soul, now and forever," intoned the Septon as Petyr Baelish and Sansa Stark stood side-by-side, holding hands. They lifted their hands up, and reached them out towards the Septon. He held a ribbon in his hand, and began tying the ribbon around their hands, saying,  
"Let it be known that Petyr of House Baelish and Sansa of House Stark are one heart, one flesh, one soul. Cursed be he who seeks to tear them asunder. In the sight of the Seven, I hereby seal these two souls, binding them as one for eternity." He had finished tying the ribbon around their joined hands, and now he undid the ribbon, adding,   
"Look upon each other and say the words." Petyr and Sansa faced each other. He felt himself bursting with pride upon looking at his radiant bride. _Far prettier than Catelyn ever was_. They spoke in unison,  
"Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger," and then broke off into their separate vows.  
"I am hers, and she is mine - from this day, until the end of my days," he said, smiling at her. She smiled back as she said,  
"I am his, and he is mine - from this day, until the end of my days." The Septon nodded to Petyr Baelish, who stepped forward and gently took Sansa's chin with the fingers of one hand as the other reached further up and stroked her cheek, brushing against the hair slipping from her plaits. He spoke gently, and it felt to Sansa as if he forgot there was anyone else there,  
"With this kiss, I pledge my love," as he tipped her chin back and kissed her open, willing mouth. He turned back to the Septon and thanked him with a bag of gold. The Septon bowed to the newlywed couple and wished them well. A carriage was already waiting to escort the Septon and his servants away from Winterfell.

Sansa and Petyr walked slowly back towards the keep.   
"Will you join me in my chambers, my lord?" asked Sansa, looking at Baelish with a blush on her cheeks. He grinned at her, rather like a lovesick puppy.  
"Of course, my dear. Tonight - and every night, if you so wish it," he replied, stroking her hand with his slender fingers, "But, remember that we must keep our union between us for now, my love. We must see how the pieces are moving in this game before we show ourselves." She nodded in agreement, and slipped away to go in ahead of him. They still had to keep some distance, even at this moment. Baelish waited a few moments before heading into the keep himself, and went to the hall where some of the guards were still drinking together. He helped himself to some wine and left. 

On the stairwell, he found his path blocked by Jon Snow.  
"Still crawling about like a worm, Littlefinger?" asked Jon. Baelish narrowed his eyes at Jon. He knew he would lose in a fight, just like he did against Brandon Stark all those years ago, except Jon Snow would be more likely to kill him. He stretched his lips into a smile, and replied,  
"You forget, I am the bird that catches the worm, not the worm itself. Now, if you'll excuse me, I am retiring for the evening."  
"Retiring where? To your own room, for once? Or to my sister's room?" asked Jon angrily. Petyr cocked his head and his smile now turned into a grin.  
"Ah, so _you_ were the one who has been spying through the keyhole?* I must admit, I did not take you for a voyeur, Jon Snow," Baelish laughed as Jon's face turned red. He pushed past the embarrassed Jon and headed straight for Sansa's chamber.

Sansa was already waiting for Petyr. Her wolf fur cloak lay across her table and her hair was now loose and shone like burnished copper in the firelight. He entered the chamber and locked the door behind him.  
"I bring wine, my lady wife," he smiled tenderly as he said the words. She couldn't help but smile too. It was the first time he'd called her his wife.   
"Thank you, husband," said she, taking the bottle from him and pouring it into some mugs for them both. They took sips of their wine.  
"It was so cold outside," said Petyr, "I am not yet used to this weather in the North, my love." She chuckled.  
"The wine and the fire will soon warm you up, Petyr."   
"I like it when you say my name, Sansa. It sounds... right, when you say it. The wine and the fire are both well and good, but I want my _wife_ to warm me up." She understood what he wanted immediately. She placed her mug on the table and knelt upon the floor, finding the ties for his breeches. She found them, and slid his breeches down his thighs towards his ankles. His cock was semi-erect, but as she gently kissed it, he felt it throb and harden for her. Sansa licked the tip of his cock as her fingers tenderly stroked his shaft. Baelish closed his eyes and just enjoyed the sensation of her tongue lapping at his cock. He reached out and stroked her hair before gripping onto it and thrusting his stiff dick deep into her mouth. He heard her make a choking sound as he hit the back of her throat, and he pulled out, his shaft slick with her saliva. 

Petyr pulled Sansa up towards his face, and their lips met, their tongues sliding together. Their lips parted momentarily, gasping for breath before kissing again. His hands were everywhere. He ripped open the bodice of her gown, exposing her rounded breasts and erect nipples. He teased her nipples with his fingers as she moaned a little into his mouth. He started kissing her chin, her neck, her collarbone and then her breasts. He slid his tongue around each of her nipples, causing her to arch her back and grip onto his hair. His hands reached down to her skirts, gathering them up till he found his way to her pussy, already wet and trembling for him. Sansa found herself no longer standing before her husband as he pulled her on top of him. Her skirts were flowing down on either side of his legs, but she could feel his bare skin against hers. They were kissing again, passionately, and she could feel herself grinding her wet pussy against him.  
"Petyr... please..." she moaned as he teased her nipples again.  
"Do you want me to fuck you, my wife?" he asked, looking up at her face. Her eyes had darkened with lust and her cheeks had reddened. Seeing Sansa so desperate for him made him want to fuck her hard.  
"Yes," she breathed, and she felt his hand reaching her pussy to stroke her clit.  
"Say it louder," he commanded, "I couldn't hear you."   
"Fuck me, Petyr!" she cried. He pulled his hand away from her clit and guided his throbbing dick to her soaking wet slit. He slid Sansa down on top of his shaft and started thrusting upwards as she cried in pleasure. She leant forward, pressing her breasts into her face, nealy suffocating him, but Baelish didn't care. He was fucking his wife, hard. He started pulling at the rest of her gown as she rode him, and he pulled the skirts over her head so he could see her naked body. She still had scars from that bastard Bolton's torture, but she was so beautiful to him despite that. Sansa pulled his shirt off and she could feel her hard nipples brushing against his skin. She loved how smooth his skin was, and how he had only a little chest hair. She kissed his neck and loved the salty taste of his perspiration mingled with mint.   
"Hold onto me," Petyr whispered in her ear. She wrapped her arms around him, still kissing as he stood up, holding onto her ass with one hand and the other upon her back. She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him to her tightly. Petyr Baelish carried Sansa to the bed, and tenderly laid her down upon it. 

He knelt down on the bed and kissed her body all the way down to her pussy. He slid his fingers inside her as he licked and sucked on her clit. He felt her squirm with pleasure, he could hear her moaning his name. His beard got wet with her juices as he pulled his fingers out and slid his tongue inside again. She cried out louder, shuddering on him and groaning as she came in his mouth. He sat upright, lifting her legs onto his shoulders, and slid his dick back inside her hot pussy. He knew he couldn't last much longer.  
"Sansa," he moaned. She reached up with her hands, stroking his chest as he shafted her.  
"Please, fill me...Petyr, finish..." He couldn't help himself as he felt his hips wanting to melt. He hammered into her and suddenly, he exploded. He thrust his cum into her as much as he could and then collapsed into his wife's waiting arms. They lay together, all entangled limbs, kissing and touching, until they fell asleep.

And still, Jon Snow watched through the keyhole.

**Author's Note:**

> *Keyhole - this is a reference to "The Dragon Wakes" (https://archiveofourown.org/works/19942660) in which Jon Snow spies on Sansa & Petyr getting intimate with each other.


End file.
